


The Liberation of Baxter Whittenburg

by some_good_clean_fun



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Comedy, Elements of Horror, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Possession, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_good_clean_fun/pseuds/some_good_clean_fun
Summary: Danny had never, not once, believed creators when they started spouting off about their characters running away and doing things they hadn’t planned, before that week. But not only did his own fictional creation escape from his authoritarian clutches, it took him along for the ride. Also, Drew had come to visit, and Danny didn't know how he was going to contain his crush while contending with a capricious creation.
Relationships: Danny Gonzalez/Drew Gooden
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	The Liberation of Baxter Whittenburg

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, this is very obviously fiction written with the intention of comedy and I do not think anything like this could or should happen. Second, there is no disrespect intended. I thought it would be funny and bring to mind old-school Danny videos. Third, have you heard about Honey? Honey is a browser extension that could save _you_ a lot of time and effort searching out coupons...

Danny had never, not once, believed creators when they started spouting off about their characters running away and doing things they hadn’t planned, before that week. Everything he did was thoroughly considered and planned. It had been that way for as long as he could remember; from when he was fifteen and goofing off making home videos with Tim, to when he was just out of college and goofing off making vines and longer sketches with Brendon, Chris and J. His goofs were precise, exact. If his videos contained errors or glitches, they were _supposed_ to be there. He knew what was going to happen, how it was going to happen, why it was going to happen, and who it was going to happen to. 

So that week, well, it rocked him to his core. It was… metamorphic? It was igneous? It was the opposite of sedimentary. It was a wild stallion rocking horse of revelations and surprises. The point is that Danny realized in a very short space of time that everything he had believed had been a big lie. A big, self-delusional, Paul Zimmer or Zayden Longzan-sized lie. 

Not only did his own fictional creation escape from his authoritarian clutches, it took him along for the ride. Danny would eventually look back on this time as a learning point, a fork in the road in which the directions were stay safe and live unscathed, or explore something thrilling and new and get very scathed, inside and out. But while it was happening, it was pretty much just a gigantic pain in his ass.

It started like this;

It was a Monday and Danny had the mother of all colds. He didn’t get sick often, apart from the effects of his auto-immune condition, but when he did, he got real, real sick. He got joints swollen, headache pounding, mucus seemingly flowing out of all of his orifices sick. He was so sick that if he sneezed on the beats, they would sue him for gratuitous bodily harm rather than drop. 

When Danny was sick, there were some things he would always do. He’d always call his best friend Laura, because she was bound to equal parts molly-coddle and mock him, and he needed that. He would cuddle up with Peanut because she was the best dog in existence. He would listen to Audible audio books because he liked supporting his sponsors and his eyes were too blurry to read. And he would watch his old content to analyze what worked, what didn’t, what he might want to bring back, and what he might want to pay to be scrubbed from the internet forever. 

This Monday, he found himself watching his oldest vids. The ones that were very not good, very not good indeed, but the ones that always made him laugh and think on nostalgically. These were the videos that first taught him how to edit. They were the ones that helped him make life-long friends. They were the ones that first made him feel simultaneously creative, productive and in charge – a heady rush of endorphins that his teenaged self was depressingly lacking prior to these experiences.

The vids that made him giggle the hardest were the ones featuring a Kafkaesque concoction that called to mind Mary Poppins interbred with Loki – someone with magically realistic powers who only ever used them to confuse and befuddle those around them. He was Baxter Whittenburg and he spoke in a truly terrible shrill British accent because Danny played him when he was a very tiny little boy. Okay, he was fourteen, but when he was fourteen he had the voice of a very tiny little boy. The thing about Baxter is that he was hilarious in how not-really-funny he was. Danny had always known the character was kinda lame and that self-awareness elevated the performance. Baxter wore a gigantic top hat and normal street clothes in most videos because neither Danny nor his friends could be bothered to go thrift shopping, and his hair was flattened down so the hat would sometimes stay on unassisted.

Danny had a fondness for Baxter’s fey, affected, hyperbolic mischievousness, and he could see how the performance could be improved upon, but he could also see the beginnings of his well-honed comedic timing and willingness to play with being unleashed. He rarely improvised, only used ‘yes, and’ when he felt more than secure that his comedy partner would go where he expected, but here were the seeds of experimentation that Danny relied on for his growth.

While watching one video, Danny laughed so hard his chest felt like it was being stomped on by twelve angry monkeys, and Peanut jumped off the bed, so he left the rest of the series for another day and queued up his youtube ‘watch later’ playlist. At the top was Drew’s latest video and Danny watched the first three minutes gently chuckling. He loved watching Drew. He always enjoyed those moments where he knew precisely what joke Drew was going to make, but even more, he loved those moments where his predictions and expectations were subverted. Watching Drew was one of Danny’s favorite pastimes, though he’d never told anyone. Admitting that felt too revealing, and even though he put his life on the internet to make a living, he never really wanted anyone to know too much about him. 

After a while, Danny fell into a deep sleep, lulled into a sense of security by Drew’s calming voice and the fact his head felt ten pounds heavier than usual.

*

Danny dreamed an exceedingly weird dream in which Baxter was watching the same video he’d been watching. 

“What a delectable specimen,” Baxter intoned, tilting his head to the side as he stared at Drew. “I wonder if I may convince him to come and stay awhile?”

The next few moments in the dream were hazy. At one point Baxter walked down a darkened street. In another he gazed at himself in a mirror. In another flash, he was on the phone for a half hour. What felt like a second later he was settling down with a large banquet of breakfast oysters. Danny saw all of this in the third person, as if he were hovering outside his own body. Except it wasn’t his body. It was Baxter’s.

Danny woke up at 11 am with the vague, unsettled feeling hyper-realistic but cracked-out dreams evoke in people, smacking his lips together because his mouth was so dry. He was a wrinkled, rumpled mess and he fell out of bed to go take a shower so at least he’d feel less like he was lying in his own grime. 

As he toweled off, there was a knock at his door and his phone simultaneously chimed to alert him to his security cam’s motion detector going off. Danny hastily pulled on some underpants, sweats and an old but clean ‘Truly Greg’ T-shirt, checking the security footage while hopping around his room. 

Drew. It was Drew at the door carrying an overnight duffle, exhaustion creased in the fine lines around his eyes. 

Danny answered the door as quickly as he could, self-consciously smoothing out his unruly curls that were drying sans-styling-products and therefore wreaking havoc on his head.

“Drew!” Danny said, hating that his voice cracked slightly. “What are you doi-… how are you here?”

Drew stepped in and went for an awkward half-hug that Danny tentatively returned because he was still a bit damp and his nose had started to run. “I couldn’t leave one of my best buddies hanging near death’s door,” Drew said, every word infused with the lightly sardonic tone he almost always used.

“How did you know?” Danny asked, ushering Drew in and taking his duffle from him.

“You called me. Sounded hopped up on the real good cold meds.”

Danny frowned. “I… no?”

“Uh, yeah. It was honestly endearing, and it’s not like I haven’t thought about visiting soon, even though we all know that flight is the fucking worst, and the uber here wasn’t much better.”

Danny was positive he’d never called Drew. Almost positive. He’d remember that, surely? He had taken some super strength meds, but nothing that caused gigantic memory lapses, right? But did it really matter why Drew was there when Danny was over the moon that he was?

He decided no. 

Was it narcissistic to have a crush on someone who was so like you in so many ways? Almost definitely, yes. Did Danny care? Most of the time, almost definitely no. The other times, the 2:30 am thinking about how much of a dick he was, reliving all his worst mistakes, pondering the existential crisis that is life – were to be expected for someone with his natural baseline level of anxiety. 

“Sit down, I’ll make some tea.”

“No, you sit, I’ll make the tea,” Drew said. “Half your brains appear to be flowing out your nose and your pants are on backwards.”

Danny brought his hand to his nose in horror, looked down. Drew wasn’t exaggerating. He grabbed for a few tissues, scuttled to his bedroom. “Sorry,” he yelled into the other room. “You caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay,” Drew called back. “I knew what I was getting into during our conversation last night. If I didn’t wanna see you at your worst, then I don’t deserve you at your best.”

Danny knocked his head lightly against his wardrobe door before he gazed at himself in the full length mirror. He really was a mess. He rearranged his clothes, brushed his fingers through his hair. Then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. A top hat, perched precariously on top of the As-Seen-On-TV products he’d purchased in order to make a sequel to one of his videos.

“That’s weird,” Danny said. And then the next few minutes were a blur.

*

Danny was staring at a half-drunk mug of tea. He tried to raise his hand to take another sip, but nothing happened. 

“This tea is simply splendiferous. I wish I had your talents, sir,” he heard his voice say. Well, it was sort of his voice. It was coming from his vocal chords. He could hear it resonating through his skull. But it sounded different. It sounded kind of British, and also very much not. 

“Just how many pills did you pop?” Drew asked, peering at him with obvious concern.

“Pop? You mean, into existence?” 

And then Danny’s hand was going high without his volition, lifting something up, and he felt a cascade of small, white disks over his face. Oh shit. Oh fuck. What the hell was going on?

“Oh God, you are so high,” Drew groaned. “I should call Kurtis, he’s better at knowing what to do in these kinds of situations.”

“But I do not wish for this Kurtis fellow, my friend. I only wish for you,” Baxter said.

Because that’s who it was. That’s what was going on. This was Baxter Whittenburg, and somehow, someway, he was _in Danny’s body_ , and worst of all? He was _in control._

“That’s both sweet and remarkably creepy,” Drew said. “Kudos to you. Maybe you should go to bed? Sleep some of the medication off?” Drew continued, taking Danny’s arm and gently maneuvering him up. 

“Yes, what a marvelous idea! I know I shall slumber in perfect peace with you by my side.”

“I’m not coming too, Danny. I’m helping. That’s all.”

Drew sounded nervous and he moved his hand on Danny like he didn’t know where he wanted to place it. He was blinking a lot, which for Drew was a high-key indicator that he was feeling insecure and unconfident. Danny wanted to apologize, wanted to put him at ease, but _Baxter_ , the bastard, chucked Drew under the chin. Danny could feel the faint rasp of his bristles, could see the widening of his eyes.

“You have no idea how becoming you are to me, do you? There is no need to be shy, my dearest. I am a tender lover.”

“This bit isn’t working,” Drew said, and more forcefully propelled them to Danny’s bedroom. 

In the bedroom, Drew raised his eyebrows at the mess that was the bedclothes, scrunched as they were over the pillows. It looked like a disaster-zone. The sheet was rucked up, an entire corner of the mattress exposed. 

“You have a Casper? Did you buy it yourself or was it sent as free promo? Why am I even asking, of course it was promo. I bet you’re raking in that sweet, sweet sponsorship coin. Of course, Casper is known for their oh-so-comfortable mattresses and their specially formulated zoned support will ensure you’ll have an extra special dream-filled sleep,” Drew rambled, sounding ever more uncomfortable.

“I know not the words you speak, perhaps I shall be elucidated were you to whisper them in my ear, ahahaaa.”

Drew hastily shook his head and waved. “You sleep. I’ll set up in the guest bedroom.”

At this point, Danny could feel himself spiraling. He was alone in his room, on the cusp of forever ruining his friendship with one of the few people in the world who truly understood him, and he was either going completely insane, or the impossible was happening. Honestly, he hoped for the impossible. 

_Baxter, what the fuck are you doing?_ Danny thought, as loudly as he could. So far, Baxter had given no indication he could even hear Danny, and clearly Danny had lost time wherein Baxter had taken the reins. But he had to try. 

“Oh do be quiet, Daniel, I’m doing what you have always wanted, only with more panache.”

_No. This isn’t what I want. This is nowhere in the vicinity of what I want. If what I wanted was Antarctica, this would be the fucking Arctic, okay? They’re a world apart._

“Daniel, darling, I know what is in your deepest, darkest thoughts. I have perused, one might say. I have perambulated. And I propose that you let me do this for you. For us.”

 _Can’t you tell that Drew doesn’t like this?_

“He’s skittish, like a kitten, but I can turn anyone I so choose into a lion.”

It was at this point that Danny remembered that Baxter had magical powers. That, if any of this was happening at all, he might use them. Perhaps the pills in the hat had been placed there in the minutes that Danny was unconscious and incognizant, but maybe, just maybe, Baxter had conjured them up on the spur of a moment as a joke. 

Shit.

_Shit. Please don’t. Don’t force Drew into anything. Please, I’m begging you. What you’re saying sounds horrific._

“I’m merely speaking metaphorically,” Baxter said, sounding indignant. “I would never coerce someone against their will. I’m going to win your inamorato over. With my charms, not my paranormal abilities.”

Danny hoped Baxter was telling the truth, because the alternative was too traumatic to consider. After all, Baxter was coercing _him_ against his will.

“Now that I think on it, I really am extraordinarily tired,” Baxter said. “Do quieten down so that I might rest awhile.” 

And then, like that, everything went dark once more.

*

When Danny woke up, he immediately felt a pressing sense of dread. Life as he knew it was in turmoil. Who could say what had happened while he’d been asleep? As well as that, Danny could also move all of his limbs and other appendages. He couldn’t yet decide if that was a good or bad thing. 

Good, because if he was lucky Baxter had gone far away, never to be seen again. And bad, because Danny would have to take responsibility for Baxter’s actions, despite having no clue what they were. He went through his security camera footage, morbidly curious as to what he would find. Sure enough, there was his body leaving his house at 9 pm the night before, and arriving back in the morning at 8 am, this time wearing the offensive black top hat at a jaunty angle and giving the camera a little wave. 

Danny made his bed, not because he was in any way houseproud, but because he was delaying the inevitable. Then he changed clothes, because there were sweat patches on his shirt and his sweatpants were grody. Then he brushed his hair and went into his adjoined bathroom to brush his teeth and put in his contacts. And then, and only then, did he tentatively leave his room. 

He could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen, so he walked there, not on tip toe – but also not _not_ on tip toe. The sight that met him had his heart flipping in his chest. Drew was at the stovetop, cooking something in a skillet, his glasses slightly askew. He looked like he belonged there, in Danny’s home, providing for him. For them both. Danny swallowed thickly, his throat tight. It could’ve been his cold, but he didn’t think so.

“Hey, you’re up,” Drew said with a gentle smile. “Feeling better? I raided your fridge for your Hello Fresh ingredients, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Thanks, Drew,” Danny replied, stepping closer. So far, so good. Maybe, just maybe, he’d hallucinated the entire Baxter situation and had simply rambled gobbledegook at Drew for an hour. “You’re not even using the recipe card.”

“I’ve been using Hello Fresh for three years now. Even if I haven’t made this exact recipe before, I can usually predict the steps. That’s the great thing about Hello Fresh, even simpletons like me can learn to cook using fresh, locally sourced ingredients, while not breaking the bank.”

“I know. That’s why I still use the service, even though Laura decided to get herself a wife and abandon me as the best ever housemate anyone could ever find, because I use the leftovers as meals the next day. Plus, I find I can usually freeze any excess. Plus, Hello Fresh is nutritious and delicious.”

“Do you think being professional youtubers has warped the way we give testimonials?”

“I think the fact you just called this perfectly normal conversation a testimonial answers that.”

Drew smiled wider, rocking into Danny and nudging him lightly. “I’m so glad you’re feeling more you. The accent was weirding me out.”

Danny’s cheeks were heating and he shrugged. So much for Baxter being a figment of his imagination. Except, he was, of course, but he was also somehow real – a manifestation or a spirit or, more worryingly, a break in Danny’s psyche. He was determined not to think about it for a while, despite giving an internal fistpump that Drew definitely preferred him, Danny, to Baxter’s outlandish attempts at seduction. 

“Did you want me to get plates?”

“I mean, I was thinking we’d dig into this stir fry with our fingers, scooping the chicken into our gaping maws like the macho men we are, but sure, plates could work too. Even a fork or two?”

“I have a spork around here somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Aww, man, these carrots and broccolini pieces are really calling for a set of spives.”

Danny set the table, even though he hadn’t eaten there since Laura had moved out. It was always easier to eat at the couch or his computer, watching or editing something rather than sitting in his kitchen alone, staring at the wall or the cupboards. Danny even went and found the napkins his mom had gotten him one Christmas, when she clearly decided he was a full grown adult even though he still had such a young face. He arranged it all artfully, admiring his handiwork. What he was doing with Drew wasn’t a date, but if it was a date, it would be an aesthetically pleasing one, with good food and even better company.  


Dinner with Drew was something Danny had missed about being on tour. Drew liked food and Danny liked watching him like it. He always made sure to get a little bit of everything on his fork, he occasionally moaned in appreciation, and his eyes lit up like a fire sale when something tasted just right. Danny had too many issues from his celiac disease to be as food-effusive as Drew, but he could gain such pleasure vicariously. Plus, Drew was an excellent conversationalist. He told Danny some of the treatments he’d written for his next videos, testing out a couple of jokes. He was self-deprecating in a way that didn’t have Danny concerned for his mental welfare, and he teased Danny in much the same manner, with affection rather than biting commentary. 

“You got any terrible knock-offs you were planning on watching?” Drew asked. “I could go for some low-fi 3D animation or deeply disturbing puppetry round about now.”

“I was thinking about watching Theodore Rex,” Danny admitted. “Found a stream for it and everything.”

“Wasn’t that over and done with, like, four years ago?” Drew asked. “The Nostalgia Critic covered it.”

“Uh, yeah. I wasn’t gonna do a reaction video. I think I’ve poisoned my capacity to enjoy actually good content. I was gonna watch it just because it’s trash.”

“So you just watch funny bad movies in your spare time and don’t even attempt to monetize it?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a fucking radical. I guess I could give it a whirl, but I can’t promise I won’t reference it to pitch the Little Stinkers and Greg against each other.”

“The Little Stinkers are Greg and vice versa, remember, they’re all convinced we’re the same person.”

“Should’ve made a more realistic animatronic facsimile of myself for our tour.”

“Should’ve had a bigger materials list than a bag of Cheetos, the circuitry from a taclight and three buckets of red vines, dude.”

They settled on the couch and watched precisely ten minutes of Theodore Rex before they began talking over it. Not even commenting on it, just ignoring it completely in favor of chatting. Chatting with Drew was similar to watching his videos. Frequently, Drew would say exactly what Danny was thinking; same cadence, same comedic beat. But sometimes, other times, he’d go somewhere Danny would never think of, and those were the moments Danny treasured the most.

Peanut lay between them on the couch, gazing up at one or either of them for cuddles and the best word to describe it was cozy. For the first time in a really long time, Danny felt content.

It had gotten late by the time they called it quits, hours after the movie finished. Danny had been yawning for a good ten minutes before he and Drew reluctantly admitted they should be heading to bed.

“Thanks, Drew.”

“What for?”

“Coming to keep me company so I won’t stare into the void all day while my body disintegrates from the inside out? Oh, and making dinner.”

Drew leaned in, stroked his finger along the underside of Danny’s chin in imitation of Baxter earlier in the day. “You’re welcome.” He stepped back immediately and went into the guest room, before Danny could adequately react.

*

In the morning, Danny was stuck in a waking nightmare. Baxter was once more at the helm, and practicing an incredibly awful American accent in front of the mirror. Something that lent credence to Danny’s belief that Baxter was a supernatural spirit possessing his body rather than a psychotic break was the fact he wasn’t wearing his contacts or his glasses, but somehow, he could see perfectly well.

“How does one put one’s lips around these vowels?” Baxter mused aloud. “And the Rs, the tremendously difficult Rs.”

 _Why bother?_ Danny asked. _Drew will just think I overdosed on pseudoephedrine again. Or, hey, buckwild suggestion -- you could let me have control._

“I want him to find me as charming as he obviously finds you, dear chap,” Baxter muttered back. “And for some reason he appears to prefer your yankee doodle dandy rather than my refinement.”

_It’s not the voice, Baxter. You’re creepy. You’re weird. You’re a fictional fucking character._

“Yes, well, I’m also a witty and urbane young man who would make an extraordinary lover.”

There was a knock at the bedroom door. “Danny, who’re you talking to?” 

“Talking? No one, I assure you. I’m watching some videos on the intermesh,” Baxter said, his attempt at an American accent getting worse. He smoothed down his clothes – Danny’s one and only fitted suit that he’d worn to Laura’s wedding, but with the top two shirt buttons undone. 

“Uhhh, right. You had yogurt and berries so I made that for breakfast. If you’re interested.”

“Who on earth consumes parfait to break one’s fast?” Baxter whispered.

 _We do,_ Danny said back. _And I enjoy it, so you can take a backseat._

Baxter decided to drive.

Danny had never thought double-takes were real until he saw Drew do one in front of him. Drew gazed at him like a deer in headlights, or a youtuber caught out in a very public lie. He visibly swallowed, looked down at the counter, then back up. Then, he frowned.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Drew asked.

“No, I simply thought I should present a more polished picture,” Baxter said, stilted and even more unnatural than he usually spoke.

“You don’t have to. You’re obviously still sick. Your throat sounds like it’s killing you. I don’t mind you being comfortable around me, Danny. Like, you don’t have to get all up in your head about this. It’s fine.”

“I am quite comfortable, but I thank you.”

“So, you wanna go out later?”

“I would prefer to remain indoors,” Baxter said, poking at the yogurt and spooning the tiniest amount to his lips. 

He didn’t seem to mind it as much as he thought he would, because he went for a larger dollop the next moment. Danny was tangentially aware that he was ravenous, but it was a distant sensation. Not only was he not able to move, but it was hard to feel any of his nerve endings. Danny felt like he was figuratively clawing at the walls, when he’d much rather be doing it literally because Baxter once again making him seem bonkers was driving him crazy. Crazier. 

“Wanna watch the latest series of Defunctland then?”

“I know not of what you speak, but that does sound all right.”

“We watched the entire first and second seasons on the bus. You seemed to like it.”

“Oh _that_ De-funked-land, yes. That sounds most promising.”

“I think you might be having an allergic reaction to your cold meds, Danny. Either that, or you bought them off the back of a truck.”

“Aaahahaahaha! Most jovial. I suppose they are rather strong.”

Drew stared at him skeptically and Danny sat there, unable to do anything to rectify the situation. 

Being on the couch with Drew inside a Baxter-controlled body was a complete antithesis to the night before. Baxter kept scooting closer to Drew, placing his hand bracingly on Drew’s knee, which Drew reacted to by crossing his other leg over top with a murmured apology. Baxter barely spent any time watching the Defunctland videos and instead stared at Drew, in what Danny could only assume was disconcerting intensity given how Drew self-consciously brushed a hand through his hair and scratched at his jaw. When Baxter went to use the bathroom, he also collected his stupid fucking hat and proceeded to magic increasingly improbable things (a feather boa, a rubber boa constrictor, and a letter-sized glossy picture of BoA the K-pop star), in order to ‘entertain’ Drew. 

Drew frowned. Drew raised an eyebrow. Drew turned his mouth down and didn’t talk, at all. 

“Danny, I’m gonna go out for a while,” Drew said after three episodes of Defunctland. “I noticed this morning that you’re out of eggs, so I’m gonna go and get some. Eggs. Uhm, please stay in the house?”

If Baxter was perturbed, Danny couldn’t tell. “If you so desire, my dashing Drew.”

Danny watched Drew leave and tried even harder than ever before to wrestle control of his body back, to no avail. 

_Why do you have to be so… yucky? You’re scaring him._

“I do not mean to, Daniel,” Baxter said, back with his bad British accent once more. Danny couldn’t decide which he hated more; bad British, or bad American. The result was almost more Canadian than anything else. It sounded awful. Danny sent a mental sorry to Kurtis. “He does not appear so timid in his videography.”

_That’s because he’s playing a heightened character of himself, a persona. Drew in real life is shy and introverted. He’s not like you._

“Oh no, he’s far more like you, is he not? You hypocritical little pervert.”

_It’s not hypocritical or perverted to get along with someone that you have things in common with. It’s perfectly natural. There’s nothing wrong with me liking Drew._

“Then why have you persisted in keeping him at a distance rather than pursuing him as you so clearly wish to do?”

_Because if Drew doesn’t like me the same way I like him, then we can’t be friends anymore, you sociopathic asshole. If I tell him how I feel, and his feelings are lukewarm to cold, I’ve not only embarrassed myself horrendously, I’ve lost him, I’ve lost the chance to spend any time with him, ever._

“He very clearly cares for you a great deal.”

_I’m about seventy-nine hundred percent sure he’s trying to get me committed as we speak._

“No, Daniel, he’s trying to get me committed, because I am not you.”

_If you’re trying to help me, why are you ruining my life?_

“Must you be so dramatic? I am not ruining your life. I am simply making it a tad more exciting.”

 _This isn’t exciting, this is terrifying, and I hate it. I hate you,_ Danny raged.

Baxter slapped himself across the face with a snap. 

_Guess what, motherfucker, that didn’t even hurt. You just played yourself, baby!_

“Yet, which of us will have to contend with the unsightly handprint?” Baxter asked. 

The next second, Danny crumpled to the ground, viscerally aware of the smarting pain in his cheek and every other part of his body. Could this be it? Had Baxter relinquished his power? Danny sure hoped so. He didn’t trust in Baxter’s intentions. He implied he wanted to help, but his actions said otherwise. The Baxter of Danny’s youth, the one he’d had ultimate power over, was badly behaved, but not malevolent, not cruel. Danny couldn’t say he thought the same of this newest incarnation. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if he woke up one morning to find himself locked inside his own mind forever. 

Danny was at a loose end. He honestly wished he hadn’t mocked Parker and Chester, the lame paranormal investigators, because even though they absolutely weren’t able to help him, perhaps they’d know _some_ real exorcists, or at the very least people who had dealt with the supernatural before? Danny just wanted to be completely confident that Baxter would be gone, once and for all.

Danny went to put in his contacts, because everything was a blur, and he tidied up, because he couldn’t think of anything better to do.

When Drew returned, he had eggs. He also had Laura in tow, who immediately mouthed, ‘What the fuck?’ at Danny, her expression simultaneously confused and admonishing. 

“Not gonna lie, I totally thought you were coming back with a Psychiatrist,” Danny said, because he thought that if he kept ignoring this was happening, it would appear even more bizarre. “I’m sorry, Drew. I don’t know why this medication is making me act so loopy, but I’ll stop taking it.”

Drew blushed, shrugging both his shoulders. “This isn’t an intervention. Laura asked to come here, didn’t you, Laura?”

“Yeah, sure, Drew. That’s precisely what happened,” Laura said, staring at Danny with a dead-on unimpressed glare. 

“Who wants to stream The Great British Baking Show?” Danny asked, attempting to lighten the tension in the room. “I can load up ExpressVPN with the click of a button and convince Channel4 that we’re in East London. It’s fool-proof and only takes half a minute. With ExpressVPN, we’ll get lightning speeds so our stream won’t make us suffer extreme buffering times to get the content we want. Not only will we be able to watch the show several days in advance rather than having to wait for Netflix, my data will be protected, which I’m sure we can all agree is a fantastic feature. No one wants their data stolen, or for their devices to be hacked. ExpressVPN, for all your Great British Baking Show  watching needs.”

“I’ve had enough British accents for this week, thanks anyway,” Drew replied.

“Danny, maybe you should sit down? You’re looking concerningly red,” Laura suggested.

Danny did as he was told, rubbing his knuckles against his eyes. 

“Look at this, I completely forgot that I need more than six eggs to make tonight’s frittata. I should go and buy some more,” Drew said, unconvincingly cheerful. 

He practically ran from the house, leaving Danny and Laura alone. 

Danny was instantly aware he had two choices. He could continue the wonky pseudoephedrine lie, or he could confess to the unbelievable craziness. Laura was one of his forever-friends. They’d known each other since High School. Their parents had thought they’d get married. He didn’t know for sure she’d believe him? But she’d believe he believed it, and it was possible that would be enough.

“What’s going on?” Laura asked, rubbing between Danny’s shoulder-blades. “Drew is _really_ worried. I didn’t think he could actually express an emotion other than ironic detachment, so when he turned up at my house earlier I knew something serious had gone down.”

“Remember Baxter Whittenburg?” Danny asked.

“Yes, I am never forgiving you for making me watch those videos. It’s created a permanent strike on my mental Danny Gonzalez record. Three strikes and you’re off my Christmas card list.”

“He’s come alive.”

Laura tilted her head at him, one way and then the other. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s started to take over my body and do things against my will, including but not limited to freaking Drew the fuck out.”

“Daniel – ”

“Please don’t call me that ever again. That’s what _he_ calls me and I’ve realized I despise it.”

Laura took another breath. “Danny, you know what you’re saying can’t be true, don’t you? Baxter Whittenburg is a childish creation. He’s a half-formed concept. He’s an idiotic iteration of a fourteen year old you at your most obnoxious.”

“Yeah, I know. And he’s destroying my chances with Drew.”

Laura gazed at him shrewdly and Danny recognized the slip of the tongue. “Soooo, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of another crush, huh? Just like that time with Marie. Just like that time with Jaxon. Just like that time with Hyram. And Sandi. And Ana. You’ve made a fool of yourself.”

“I haven’t. _He_ has.”

“He being Baxter Whittenburg.”

“Yes. Look at me, Laura. Look into my eyes. Do I look like I’m playing around with this shit? Do I look like I’m Troom Trooming you right now? I sure as fuck trust not, because I couldn’t be more heartfelt if I tried. Baxter Whittenburg has somehow sprung into existence and is making my life a living hell.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Danny sighed in overwhelming relief. “If you see it happening, get my body away from Drew, by any means necessary. You’ll notice it immediately because he’s incapable of talking like a normal human, and he’s very, very handsy.”

“Okay, but only because I love you, you big goon.”

Danny was surprised, but Drew came back after a half-hour. He thought Laura might have signaled him, because he looked a lot less uptight and more like the relaxed version of himself that Danny had come to know and care for. Danny had changed into a T-shirt and jeans and burrito’d himself in a blanket on the couch, Laura beside him, as they watched Blown Away; a Canadian reality show about glass blowers that was like the Great British Baking Show but mercifully devoid of British accents. 

Drew sat on Danny’s other side, absent-mindedly scritching Peanut between the ears. “Feeling better again?” Drew asked.

“The side-effects have worn off,” Danny said. “In their place I have a Lake Erie sized fountain of snot, but, I think I’m okay with that.”

Drew gave a soft snuffle-laugh and nodded. They all sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the surprisingly engaging show. Who knew glass blowing could be so entrancing? Drew and Laura weren’t really friends with each other, but they were both friends with Danny, so he was like a fulcrum in their conversation. Everything balanced with him. He liked that, though. He didn’t feel like he had to compete for either of their attentions. 

The day passed and Baxter didn’t make a reappearance. Drew made the frittata he had promised, and Laura made her famous gluten-free cookies. Danny’s jangling nerves settled down and he began to feel – not good, exactly, but not terrible either. Being a youtuber was a lonely business, ninety-six percent of the time. There were long, long hours of him researching, blocking shots, laying down beats, filming, editing. Even when he went to work at coffee shops, he was invariably by himself. He had Peanut, Laura and her wife Amanda living nearby, and Drew, Kurtis and Brendon via Skype, Tim when he was back in Illinois after adventuring around the world, but he was beginning to realize he needed human, physical contact more than he achieved it.

At midnight, Laura looked down at her phone and looked at Danny apologetically. “I gotta get going. Amanda’s texting, and I’d show you the proof, but the pictures are too racy for your innocent eyes.”

In his peripheral vision, Danny could see a selfie of Amanda wearing rainbow PJs, snuggled under a comforter. 

Danny didn’t want Laura to go, but he also knew he couldn’t keep her with him forever on the eventuality that he’d be possessed. He gave her a long hug with a whispered, “Thanks.”

“Any time. Good luck!”

“I don’t know about you, but I am also very tired,” Danny said as he joined Drew in loading the dishwasher.

“Of course you are, you’ve been carrying two entire conversations,” Drew said with a sarcastic smile tinged with genuine humor. 

“If I allowed you two to spend more time together, you’d learn to gang up on me and that’s a truly frightening concept.”

“Plus, we’d probably run away together, leaving you and Amanda trying to pick up the pieces of your shattered lives.”

Drew brushed his fingers over Danny’s as they exchanged a plate and Danny’s spine shivered. He tried to appear nonchalant, handing over more crockery. Inside, ten thousand little butterflies were making his stomach their home.

“I feel like that’s definitely the plot of several prank youtube videos created by people with no ethics and even looser morals.”

“We should make a parody. You could write a song.”

“Yup, it’s that simple. Think of an idea, get the lyrics down without spending twenty hours on rhymezone and a thesaurus, preload a Garageband backing track, bada boom, bada bing, bada bop.”

“You want me to present _my_ contender?”

“Oh God, no.”

They said their goodnights and Danny went to bed and drifted off to sleep in no time, a smile on his face, and a lightness in his heart.

*

The next day, Danny felt a lot better. His head was clearer, his throat less scratchy, his nose no longer stuffy. He showered and shaved, opted for his glasses and styled his hair just so. He wore jeans and a button down; a happy mixture of casual but presentable. He looked good. Danny wasn’t vain, but he wasn’t blind either. He was an aesthetically pleasant looking man, despite or maybe even because of his young face.

Drew’s reaction confirmed that, his eyes lighting up like a fire sale when Danny came into the room. “You’re looking human.”

“I’m very almost feeling human,” Danny confirmed. 

“We should go out for brunch.”

They went to Danny’s favorite non-chain coffee shop, blissfully quiet at 10 am on a week day. He was a regular, so they knew his order and he gave Drew some recommendations based on friend’s favorites.

“So… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Drew said when they were settled with drinks and danishes. 

“Sounds ominous.”

“I hope not. I’m thinking of moving here.”

Danny’s heart started to race. Drew couldn’t mean… could he? He took a steadying breath. 

“I wouldn’t blame you. This vegan hazelnut macchiato is to die for.”

“To Illinois. I figure, I can be a youtuber anywhere. The longer I stay in Florida, the greater chance I have of becoming Florida man, so, what do you think?”

What did Danny think? What did he think of Drew, the person he liked to look at most in the world, the person he always wanted to talk to, the person who made his entire body spark sweetly with nervous anticipation, moving to live close to him? He thought, “Yes, please. Yes yes yes, with yeses on top.”

“I think if it’s something you’re seriously considering, you should give it a shot. I’ll help you find a place.”

Drew grinned and Danny grinned back, hopelessly smitten. 

The day was one of the best in Danny’s life. Being with Drew was simultaneously invigorating and yet so secure. He felt like he could do anything he put his mind to, even the things he’d always avoided before, and he really liked being able to show off his favorite places. Drew was a good man who saw the good in Danny, and being surrounded with that level of affection was enchanting. If this had been a movie montage, there would be shots of Danny and Drew walking in a park next to a duck pond, laughing over weird graffiti in a skate rink, and sitting with their knees knocking as they had an afternoon snack of gelato and sorbet. By the time they made it back to Danny’s, it was dusk. They’d picked up take-out and ciders, and Drew kept orbiting closer and closer to Danny. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Drew said. “I’ve really enjoyed being with you, Danny, even during your drug-induced delusions. And I want you to know it was because you were clearly high as balls that I backed away from your earlier advances. But I’m not averse to us seeing where this – whatever this is between us – goes.”

Drew leaned in, hand cradling the back of Danny’s head, eyes intent.

In Danny’s mind, there came a tinkling, affected, ‘Aaaahahhahha’. 

_I swear to God, Baxter, if you steal my first kiss with Drew, I will eviscerate you. Even if it means committing hara kiri, I will destroy you. Count on it,_ Danny thought back, furiously.

Drew kissed him sweetly, and Danny felt everything. He felt the soft press of Drew’s lips, the slight rasp of his five o’clock shadow, the way he angled so their noses wouldn’t bump and Danny’s glasses wouldn’t get in the way. He felt the gentle pressure and tentative offer Drew was giving him, and he felt his whole body light up from the inside out. 

“Wow,” Danny couldn’t help but say when they parted. 

Drew was gazing at him with such tender fondness, his heart flipped three more times inside his rib cage. “Yeah,” Drew said. “We should definitely try that again some time.”

“Now?”

“Nah, I’m kinda beat,” Drew replied with a mischievous head wiggle, before tilting close to Danny again and kissing him deeper. 

‘You are most welcome, Daniel,’ Baxter’s voice said, in the deep, dark recesses of his mind. 

_Fuck off, Baxter, you didn’t help, you hindered._

Danny and Drew curled up on the couch and spent an indeterminate amount of time making out before retiring to their own rooms. Danny brushed his teeth and gazed at himself in the mirror. It seemed incredible that everything could be so wonderful, in every sense of the word. Danny wasn’t sure he could totally believe it. His lips were plush-pink and swollen, the hollows of his cheeks similarly colored, his hair in disarray. Drew really seemed to have a thing for brushing his fingers through Danny’s hair, and he wasn’t mad about it.

Things went black for a moment and Danny panicked when he realized he was looking through Baxter’s eyes. 

“I really am terribly happy for you, Daniel,” Baxter said. “I shall henceforth take my leave and allow you to better acquaint yourself with all the fine features of your paramour. And I do mean all of them.”

 _How can I be guaranteed you’re gone for good?_ Danny asked, because he didn’t trust Baxter as far as he could throw him, and considering he was incorporeal, he couldn’t throw him at all. 

“I shall transfer myself into a vessel of your choice. All I shall ever want is your promise that you will look back on me with kindness and respect.”

Danny didn’t think that was possible, but he’d agree to anything to get Baxter out of him forevermore. 

_Okay. I want you to transfer yourself into the nutcracker doll. What do you need me to do?_

“Nothing, dearest. I shall simply traverse to your office and complete the transaction.”

Until the very last second, Danny thought Baxter was lying, but he regained full control of his body in an instant, while the little Nutcracker swayed on the spot. When Danny crouched down, he could see a spark of light in the Nutcracker’s painted eyes. He searched his mind as thoroughly as he could, but he had to admit, he couldn’t sense Baxter anywhere. Then again, he hadn’t really sensed him the first, second or third times he appeared either, so that admission was worth precisely nothing. 

Danny went to bed and even though he didn’t pray, he did the closest thing an agnostic person could do, and wished upon a star. 

*

The next morning, Danny was making tea when Drew came up from behind and wrapped his arms around his middle. 

“Good morning,” Drew intoned, rocking them from side-to-side. “I slept very well, how about you?”

Danny twisted in his embrace and caressed his jaw, pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. He felt so blessed to be able to do that. He’d thought about it a lot over the years. “Like a dream. The cutest that you’ve ever seen.”

“Great, because Greg is going buckwild at the instagram and youtube vids you posted when you were hopped up on your meds the other day. I’m talking minds blown, teenaged angst turned up to eleven, they’re losing their shit.”

“What?”

Drew pulled out his phone and showed Danny a series of videos in which Baxter performed the lamest magic tricks known to man, sang an exaggerated ‘Big Spender’ wearing only Danny’s boxers and the feather boa he’d conjured, and gave a five minute treatise on how to pronounce the word ‘scone’. Danny thought he was gonna throw up in his mouth.

“I tried to extinguish the flames by saying you’re workshopping some parody vids, but they want hashtag Danswers.”

Danny rolled his head from side to side and squared his shoulders. There were once again two choices. One, he delete the videos and act like they’d never been posted, completely ignoring any and all references Greg would make forever more. Or, two, he lean into it, turn it into a new improvisational comedy series, highlighting the craziness and adding even more. He may not have Baxter’s magical powers, but he had his flair for the dramatic, and he could imitate his voice pitch perfectly. Once upon a time, it had been his, after all. 

Danny knew there was only one thing to do. He cuddled into Drew again, held him close. “You wanna help me make a squarespace site for my new comedy endeavor?” 

“Why do you need help?” Drew asked, lacing his fingers through Danny’s. “Squarespace is the best all in one platform to show off your content. You can do everything, from picking out a domain name, to designing the perfect website using any of their attractive templates, all without any coding experience necessary...”

Danny kissed Drew silent. From somewhere upstairs there was a thump and an, ‘Aaahahaha’.


End file.
